


Daybreak

by RaggsEnriches



Category: Charité | Charité at War (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bombs, Fluff, M/M, Morning time, attic scene, gentle boys, historical fiction-ish, i really had to write it, this is for the five people in this fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-17 16:51:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21057761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaggsEnriches/pseuds/RaggsEnriches
Summary: The terror of night gives way to the anxious day. At least for Otto Marquardt, there is one constant source of comfort.





	Daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd jump on the tiny little bandwagon of this fandom and become the second person to publish any stories for these two. This is just a little one-shot, but I do believe there will be more coming very soon because I can't help myself and keep writing more (mostly during school when I shouldn't be, the usual). Enjoy!

Daybreak.  


A night of terror left behind, forgotten till the next inevitable darkness. A wandering mind could consider this as long as one lived, and still the magnitude of the situation could never be fully comprehended.  


Otto Marquardt stood at the veiled window a moment longer before turning away slowly. He despised what the sun stood for: another day of business as usual for the Reich, another day of fear for him.  


Him; and Karin, who lay in her cradle with closed eyes and soft breath. Otto watched her with a gentle smile crossing his face. His niece was wonderful and gorgeous, no matter what any Nazi might say.  


The hunk of bread lying on the table was soon enough in slices, Otto prepped it with cheese on the side and sat, waiting.  


There was a gentle knocking on the door and then Martin appeared, softly closing it and ambling over the beams as quickly and quietly as an amputee could. Otto stood and gripped the slightly older man in a tight embrace when they were close.  


“Another terrible night.” Martin whispered in his ear.  


“Another morning, and we are safe.” he said. Safe was a foolish word but it brought a small sense of comfort.  


They shared a chaste kiss - all they ever managed at this point in the morning - and sat by the table, Martin leaving an arm wrapped around his waist. He adored the warmth of it, and leaned into the soft touch.  


“I’ve had such terrible nightmares, Otto, I -” Martin cut himself off as a piece of bread was handed to him, then started slowly again, “I know we’ve discussed this but I cannot help my fear.”  


“I told you it’s much the same for me. I’m still sorry to be the cause of it.” he replied, watching the other with a tight feeling of worry in his chest.  


“There’s nothing we can do.”  


It was true. The world was burning and everyone was against them, even his own sister, who was still adjusting to his relationship. Otto ate his bread methodically, contemplating what he knew to be reality. This scene repeated itself nearly every morning and it did not seem to be inclined to ever cease.  


Martin was his one saving grace. Martin Schelling, a beautiful man and a fantastic nurse with the power to capture his entire heart. Otto could never express how grateful he was for the other’s existence.  


To have gone on in the war, not knowing love, had been the fate he was destined to live out, he’d been certain of it. But it turned out that fate could be rewritten.  


“I treated a patient with a third degree burn on their chest last night.” Martin said, sighing as he broke the silence. “She was 10 years old, Otto.”  


“Was it a long night?” Otto knew from experience that discussing patients only led to an emotional attachment one could rarely afford.  


“They keep dropping bombs, we keep fixing the victims. I wasn’t in bed until early this morning.”  


Otto finished his meal and leaned his head against Martin’s shoulder, imagining he could feel the fatigue emitting from the other and take it away from him. His lover did not deserve so much stress. None of them did.  


“I wouldn’t mind if you slept here this morning. That is, if you’re off duty.” Otto said.  


“I would be grateful for the chance. Anni won’t be here until at least midday.”  


“Karin will sleep for a little longer, don’t worry about her.”  


Slowly they moved to the bed, Otto allowing the nurse to lie down before he laid his head on Martin’s chest, feet hanging off the side of the bed. The steady heartbeat that greeted his ears pleased him. Gentle fingers started to ruffle his hair.  


“My hair’s too greasy to be touched.” He grinned.  


“Your hair is fine.”  


Martin bent his head down and kissed him, a gentle action that quickly became passionate. Otto wrapped his fingers around Martin’s neck in an effort to press impossibly closer.  


“I think a face wash might be in order.” Martin let out a soft laugh as he said it.  


He lightly smacked the other man, putting his head back down on the pillow who’s heart rate had skyrocketed. Otto took a private joy in the fact that he was the reason for that change.  


“You’d best wish for something more realistic.”  


“I refuse to kiss a dirty face any longer.” said Martin.  


The long fingers returned to his hair despite the teasing, and Otto sank further with relief and fatigue into his lover’s chest. It no longer mattered how much one slept at night. Exhaustion was always present.  


“Really?” He asked, not opening his eyes.  


Lips met his briefly once again, “Yes.”  


“That’s a damn shame.”  


The outside world hummed with life. Shouts echoed across the alleys: the wounded rushing in as the sun rose. It was an all-too familiar chaos that Otto had learned to ignore as he spent more time in the attic.  


At that particular moment he was choosing to listen to Martin’s breathing as it evened out and eventually settled into a steady rhythm as the man fell asleep with his fingers still lightly gripping Otto’s dirty hair.  


He was content. Any time spent with Martin was bliss regardless of their levels of consciousness. Joy was so rare in days that rained bombshells and Martin would forever be his one cause for sparking that emotion.  


“I love you,” he whispered to the air.  


“I love you too.” Martin mumbled in reply.  


Otto smiled. He was truly happy.  


This was love.


End file.
